


Or Whisper From a Distance

by roseandheather



Category: Code Black (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 14:04:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6707263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseandheather/pseuds/roseandheather
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neal Hudson used to wonder if he was imagining things.</p><p>He wasn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Or Whisper From a Distance

For months, Neal wondered if he was imagining everything.

He wondered if he was imagining the tiny, radiant smile on Leanne's face whenever a still-uncertain Ed Harbert strolled into the waiting room, diffidently asking the nurses what they had for him that day.

He thought he had to be imagining the lingering looks across the E.R., or the way Harbert's eyes would go soft as he watched Leanne at work. Thought the admiration in Harbert's eyes as he watched Leanne at Center Stage was a figment of his imagination; thought there was no way the intimate gazes or just-longer-than-necessary touches could be real.

He thought he was so desperate for Leanne to find any kind of happiness that he was turning a warm professional relationship and - eventually - personal friendship into something it couldn't possibly be.

He was wrong.

And he's never been happier to be wrong in his life.

He comes upon them on the roof, where he had wandered after shift for some time to think (and, possibly, to meet a certain resident). But to his surprise, his favorite spot is already occupied; Leanne stands looking out over the L.A. skyline, Ed Harbert standing right behind her, his arms wrapped loosely about her waist.

He doesn't mean to eavesdrop. Truly he doesn't.

He does anyway.

"...still think we should go to more than just Paris on our honeymoon," Ed's voice says clearly, and Neal jerks in surprise.

Leanne's laugh - beautiful, shimmering, so carefree it makes his heart hurt from happiness - ripples out across the breaking day. "You still haven't asked me yet," she notes, the thread of humor in her voice a clear sign that it's an old running joke between them. She tilts her head back against Harbert's chest, looking up at him with a radiant smile the likes of which Neal hasn't seen from her since that fatal accident.

"Do you doubt I will?" he asks her, his arms tightening around her.

"No," Leanne admits, visibly relaxing into Harbert's embrace. "Do you doubt I'll say yes?"

"Yes," Harbert admits at once. "I'm still trying to convince myself you see me the way I see you. Of _course_ I doubt you'll say yes. I'll doubt it until you actually _do._ In fact, I'll probably doubt it until we're cutting the wedding cake. I just love you enough to risk it anyway."

"There are no sure bets in life," says Leanne, with just a touch of bittersweet remembrance in her voice. "But Ed, you have to know that my 'yes' is as close to a sure bet as anything ever will be."

"And that's why I'm waiting," he says, only just a bit urgently. "Because I hope to God it's the last time I'll ever ask the question, and when I do..."

"I know," Leanne murmurs, so quietly Neal can barely hear her over the pounding in his ears. "I know, Ed. Me too. So I'll wait, until it's our moment."

"Yes," says Harbert, profound relief in his voice. "Yes. That's it, Leanne. Our moment."

"But," says Leanne, "we don't have to wait for 'our moment' to discuss the after. And I still think we should do that tour of Central Europe and Russia."

"Here's an idea," says Harbert, apparently warming to his theme. "We could start in Vladivostok and work our way west. What do you say? The Trans-Siberian Railway, then to St Petersburg, the Caucasus, and the Black Sea, and from there to Paris before we come home. Or we reverse the itinerary, or we change it. I'm really not all that bothered, sweetheart, as long as you're there with me."

"I like it," says Leanne, after a long moment. "I really like it." She takes a deep breath and turns in Harbert's arms, looking up into his face with eyes so full of love Neal has to look away. "But more than anything I like the idea of you and me on our honeymoon." She rests her forehead against his chest, and Neal can barely hear her next words. "You know what you are to me. You know why I love you. And still..."

"And still," Harbert finishes, apparently knowing it by heart, "it's an unexpected miracle every day."

"Yes," says Leanne, with a catch in her voice. "Yes. It is."

It's only when she lifts her mouth to his, a kiss so tender Neal nearly cries, that he can bring himself to turn away.

~*~

_It was real. It was all real. And it was so much bigger than I knew._

He should be stunned, he knows, that what he thought was a slow-blooming romance had actually been a quiet, almost invisible courtship. He should be stunned that Leanne Rorish - _Leanne -_ would be discussing marriage with Ed Harbert, of all people. 

He should be stunned Leanne would be discussing marriage with anyone, let alone already be at the point where her answer is a foregone conclusion.

But he isn't.

Because he's seen those silent gazes and small touches, the lingering looks and quiet smiles. He's seen the way they move around each other, the way they work together, the way they've come to _fit._

He's seen that scene on the roof, and a quiet contentment in Leanne that he thought he'd never see again. Has seen the way she leans on him, turns to him, lets him shelter her.

And he's seen the way Ed Harbert looks at Leanne - like she's an unexpected gift, something worth treasuring.  Something worth protecting.

Someone to cherish.

And where once he'd have been afraid to see Leanne risk her heart like that again, now he knows it could be in no safer hands.

So the next time Ed Harbert wanders down to the E.R. and diffidently asks for a small, light case, Neal waves him over and asks for a second opinion on a critical-but-not-life-threatening patient. He nods, and  _listens,_ and looks at Ed Harbert as the doctor he has always been, long before he was an administrator. 

Then he looks at Ed Harbert as the man who holds Leanne Rorish's heart in his hands, and has found his own heart held in hers.

And finds - to his own considerable and very pleasant surprise - that he can't imagine her with anyone else.

At that moment, Harbert apparently catches sight of Leanne out of the corner of his eye, because his face lights up with a telltale, subtle glow. Across the room, Leanne's eyes flicker to them both, and her face goes equally radiant; soft, not readily visible, but to those who know it's there, it's unmistakable.

Leanne catches his eye, quirking an eyebrow at him inquisitively. Neal tilts his head at Harbert, then smiles softly and just nods in unspoken blessing.

 _Yes,_ he tells Leanne, in the quiet, unspoken language that has developed between them over the years. _I know. He's a good man, Leanne. And he might even deserve you._

Impossibly, her smile becomes even more radiant. 

And it doesn't fade for the rest of the day.

Neither does Harbert's.

And neither, as it happens, does Neal's.

 

**Author's Note:**

> "What, you want to write one of the half a dozen stories you already came up with but haven't written yet? Hahaha, no. Fuck you. Now write this idea that popped into your head thirty seconds ago. Because reasons." ~ Leanne Rorish or Ed Harbert, probably


End file.
